


Forever It Is

by SirMuffinsworth



Series: Multiversal Snapshots of a Love Between a Spiky-Haired Boy and a Red-Haired Girl [4]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Different Neo World Program Survivors AU, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, I also patched up the glaring plot hole that was the SDR2 ending, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, This isn't my fault its yours, Vaginal Sex, You asked for this, as best I could I mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29791698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirMuffinsworth/pseuds/SirMuffinsworth
Summary: The Neo World Program is over. Hajime and Mahiru are together, alone, and in the real world at last. They survived together.And they're still in the mindset of teenagers. With hormones.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Koizumi Mahiru
Series: Multiversal Snapshots of a Love Between a Spiky-Haired Boy and a Red-Haired Girl [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2176581
Comments: 11
Kudos: 17





	Forever It Is

**Author's Note:**

> -WARNING!-
> 
> This should already be very clear from the tags, but in case you're one of those people that's subscribed to me and just clicks into my works from your email notifications, I'll put this warning here too.
> 
> This is smut.
> 
> Not shameless, more than half of it is plot leading up to the smut, but there is smut. Not a fade-to-black like I've done in the past, it's all there.
> 
> The two of you who asked for this, you know who you are, and I hope you're happy.
> 
> Also, I should preface, I only did this because I've never written it or anything like it before, so I thought it would be a good writing exercise. I realize that doesn't change the fact that I have, in fact, written it, but just let me rationalize this to myself. Please.

It was here, at the climax of the Neo World Program. The graduation program that he and his friends had fought tooth and nail, suffered so much, just to make it to.

It was here that Hajime Hinata was finally losing his shit.

“Hope… Despair…” his voice cracked, “Do whatever you want! Just leave us out of it!”

“Hajime, no!” the man who had introduced himself as Makoto Naegi cried, “You can’t just give up!”

“Fuck you!” Hajime shouted back, “Think about what you’re asking of us! We’ve been through so much… we’ve lost so many of our friends… and now you just want us to erase ourselves!? Go back to being… whatever the hell we were!?”

“You can call me foolish if you would like…” Peko sighed softly, “But… I would like to see my young master again, if only one more time…”

“You can’t ask this of us…” Ibuki’s usually lively eyes were dark and downcast, “It’s too much weight to bear…”

“If all of this was meaningless…” Mahiru had tears streaming down her freckled face, “What has our suffering been for? What have our friends died for!? You just want us to throw their sacrifices aside!?”

“You do not preach salvation,” Gundham muttered bitterly, “You preach our destruction. That is not an option I am willing to take.”

“You fools!” the true Byakuya Togami exclaimed, “The sins of the past are inescapable. You must face the consequences of what you’ve done!”

“Not helping, Byakuya,” Kyoko Kirigiri sighed, rubbing her temples.

“Awww, so you’ve chosen to do nothing,” Alter Ego Junko sighed, the giant form behind her pouting, “Disappointing, and boring, but not unexpected, I guess.”

“Please!” Makoto exclaimed, “We’ll figure something out, I know we will!”

“No,” Mahiru shook her head, “We can’t trust your word. Even if you do find a way to bring the four of us out of despair…”

Hajime’s mind had shut down somewhat, leaving only an empty shell to feel the photographer’s arms wrap protectively around him.

“The price is too much!” the redhead cried, “This godforsaken simulation already took all the others! Teruteru killed the Impostor. Hiyoko killed Fuyuhiko. Akane killed Nekomaru and Mikan. Kazuichi killed Sonia. Nagito forced Chiaki to kill him. We’ve lost too many of our friends already! You can’t have Hajime, I won’t let you steal him away too!”

“Nyawww, well isn’t that just adorable?” Junko’s voice was cutesy and playful, “Is that love I hear in that voice? Man, who’d’a thunk she’d end up straight, seriously…”

“Mahiru is right,” Peko nodded, “We won’t abandon him to be forgotten, not when we can still save him. He is our friend.”

“Got to hell, all of you!” Ibuki exclaimed, “This is your fault! Everyone would still be alive if it wasn’t for you!”

“Do not shift blame away from yourselves!” Byakuya shouted, “If you recall, you people are murderers! Genocidal freaks! You should be thankful we didn’t just kill you ourselves!”

“Still not helping, Byakuya,” Kyoko sighed, “Please, the five of you. We are reasonably certain we can bring those in despair out of it, and if you give us a little time, I’m sure we can figure something out that would bring Hajime back. Mostly, at least.”

“Insufficient,” Gundham snarled, “Your words are pretty, but I see no merit to them.”

“Well…” Junko piped up, “There is another option… you could always click Graduate…”

“No!” Makoto exclaimed, “That would be putting the entire world at risk!”

Hajime didn’t know what to do.

What could he do?

He was just a reserve course student. He wasn’t even supposed to be here.

And now… he had to choose?

Him and his friends, or the world…

How was he supposed to make that call? He had just been dragged into all of this.

And these people… they wanted him to just disappear?

No….

That can’t be it…

This has to be a lie.

That makes sense, right?

It’s just a lie. It’s all a lie.

“Hajime?”

The voice was quiet. Almost imperceptible over the din of sorrow that pervaded his very existence.

“Hajime, stay with me, please.”

Who was that? Did it matter? He wasn’t sure.

“Hajime, I need you! Please, don’t disappear on me like this, not yet!”

The voice…

Was that… what was her name again?

“HAJIME!!”

Hajime snapped back to his senses. AI Junko was cackling over the group, the Future Foundation members all shouting in vain in an attempt to persuade his friends around him. Peko’s face was solemn, her gaze fixed on the podium at which Fuyuhiko had stood for the single class trial he had been alive for. Gundham was staring at the floor, his devas scurrying around and trying to get his attention, to no avail. Ibuki was crying, on her knees and clutching her podium with a white-knuckled grip.

And Mahiru was shaking him awake, more tears in her eyes, as she pleaded for him to stay.

“Hajime,” the girl’s voice shook, “Wake up, please…”

“I can’t do it, Mahiru…” Hajime whispered, “I can’t decide… I don’t want to disappear…”

“That’s not even an option, Hajime!” Mahiru cried, “We won’t let you disappear, I promise… and… no matter what, no matter who it saves… I never want to forget you!”

The photographer hugged him tight, bringing tears to his eyes as well as she wept her own into his shirt, “H-Hajime… P-please, tell me what I can do… you’ve g-guided us through all the trials, please… how can we s-save you?”

That was a good question.

Option A: The shutdown. Hajime would disappear, Mahiru and the others would lose all their memories of him ever existing, and the dead would stay dead. The Future Foundation might even end up killing them, despite what they say.

Option B: Graduate. Hajime would live on, as would their memories of the island, but Junko would gain control of the dead. That would put the entire outside world at risk.

Option C: Repeat. Live through the trip again. More despair, more murder, more torture. More death. 

There were no good options. No way to save everyone.

Unless…

Hajime froze.

They were in a game. Their memories were being suppressed, that’s why they didn’t know that beforehand.

Everything is a file. Everything can be deleted, or restored, with a keystroke. That’s how computers work. Why would it be different here?

“Makoto…” he murmured, “Tell me again.”

“...huh?” the brown haired boy asked.

“Chiaki. Tell me again how she was made.”

Makoto blinked, “C-Chiaki? Well, uh… we made her using everyone else’s memories of her to recreate her personality…”

“Is it only possible to do that with an AI? Or… could you do it for anybody?”

Makoto blinked, “Uh… where are you going with this?”

Mahiru looked up at Hajime, a pleading look on her face. He could tell that if this wasn’t the solution, if this idea wasn’t what they needed, the girl very well might break.

That was why it needed to work.

There was no way he could let this fail now.

“The avatars of the others have been deleted…” Hajime murmured, “But there’s still five of us here. Is five good enough? Or, rather, I suppose four?”

“Hajime, where are you going with this?” Junko rolled her eyes, “I thought I already made it clear, there’s no hope for you.”

Hajime ignored her, still looking between the three Future Foundation members, “The five of us have been through hell together for the last month. These people are my friends. If what you say is true, then… they’re the closest thing to family I’ve got. Would their memories work?”

“You want us to recreate you?” Kyoko stiffened, her eyes widening as she came to the same conclusion as Hajime, “And upload that AI to your body instead!?”

“Not just me,” Hajime shook his head, “All of us. Our memories of each other while we were despair are gone, so they shouldn’t be an issue. We know each other as good people. Friends. Upload those to our bodies. I trust my friends. They know me.”

“There’s no guarantee that will work,” Junko’s tone hitched as she tried to keep it calm, but Hajime could sense the nervousness there, “Do you really have nothing to hide from each other? No secrets that that would erase? Do you really know everything about each other the way you say you do?”

“No,” Hajime shook his head, “This is the only way. We shut the program down, and come back as ourselves, recreated through the lenses of our friends. No despair. No Kamukura. That’s how we win.”

Peko’s eyes widened, “Hajime… I trust your judgement, but are you certain about this?”

“I have to be, Peko,” he nodded, “As long as it will work with the system, I mean.”

Byakuya nodded slowly, “As a matter of fact… I believe that will work, yes.”

“If that works…” Ibuki whispered, “Do you think… could we…”

“It’s possible,” Gundham whispered, “We could resurrect all of our fallen. Our original school memories are not tied to the system, correct? If we escape in this way, we could use those to…”

“Bring them all back…” Mahiru whispered, “Everyone who died… we can save them!”

“Oh boy, this is not going according to plan,” Junko’s face was somewhere between horrified and blissful, “Ooh. Ooh yeah, that’s the good stuff. That’s some good despair right there.”

“Enough out of you,” Hajime spat at her, “Come on, guys! Let’s shut this damn game down!”

With that, he slammed his hands down on the GRADUATE and REPEAT buttons simultaneously. 

“All of you… my first true friends…” Peko whispered, a small smile on her face as she did the same, “I’ll see you on the other side. As ourselves.”

“Ibuki can’t wait to say hi to everybody again in the real world!” The musician added as she pressed her buttons, “Let’s blow this pop stand!”

“So it is only with our combined powers that we may be saved,” Gundham chuckled as he complied, “How… delightful.”

One by one, the Future Foundation members all pressed their buttons down, and with that, Mahiru was the only one left.

“Are you ready?” Hajime asked her.

“Yeah…” she murmured, “Just… one thing first, okay?”

“What is it?”

Mahiru’s eyes danced, “If anything goes wrong, or whatever… I just want to be able to say this to you one time… I--”

“I know, Mahiru,” Hajime smiled, “I love you too.”

The photographer beamed brightly up at him, before shakily pressing her buttons down as well.

The last thing Hajime heard before the world ended was Junko squealing in delight, and the last thing he felt was Mahiru’s hand grasping his own tightly.

And then it was over.

~~~~~~~~~~

The air was cool in the greenlit pod. Hajime gasped awake, his teeth chattering.

Hajime.

He was Hajime.

“YES!” he exclaimed, before sending himself into a violent coughing fit. His vocal chords were very much not used to working right now. Slowly, the pod above him slid open, and he gratefully gasped air that was not recycled and metallic.

“He’s up!” he heard a voice say, followed by footsteps racing towards his pod. It took longer for him to register who was speaking than it took for a mess of unkempt blue hair and pink eyes to peer over the lip of his pod, bouncing up and down with excitement.

“Ibuki!” he exclaimed, wrapping his friend in a tight hug, “It worked! I’m… I’m me!”

“Fantasmalistic,” the musician smiled as she returned the hug, “You’re the last survivor to wake up. Took the suits over there a little longer to piece you together, since we didn’t have everybody else’s school memories to build you with. We got there, though.”

“The others are all awake, too?” he asked, glancing around, “Where are they?” 

“Your friends are waiting for you in the hotel,” Makoto Naegi said as he approached, looking much older than he had in the simulation, “Welcome back, Hajime.”

“It’s… good to be back,” he replied as he shook the luckster’s hand, “And the others, they’re all… you know…”

“Everybody’s okay, Hajime,” Ibuki reassured him, “The ones we lost are still sleeping, for now, but they’re working on that. Everybody we made it out with is okay.”

Hajime felt tears drip down his face once more as the knot of fear he had been holding since he proposed the insane plan dissipated. It had worked.

They were free.

Hajime made to get out of his pod, immediately tripping over the lip and faceplanting on the floor with an ‘ungf’.

“Whoa, easy there,” Makoto said as he held out a hand, “Your muscles haven’t moved in a month, remember? Give your body some time to adjust.”

Hajime nodded as he slowly took the man’s hand. His muscles were screaming at him, but the pain eventually died down as he stood on wobbly legs. All things considered, being asleep for only a month wasn’t as bad as it could be. His muscles had atrophied, yes, but only to the normal degree of someone who didn’t exercise, he hadn’t begun to lose bone density or anything like that.

“So this is the real world, huh,” he muttered, “Feels pretty similar.”

“Well yeah,” Makoto chuckled, “It’d be a pretty bad simulation if you could just tell, heh heh.”

A face returned to Hajime then. Slender features, pale skin. Cute freckles, shining olive eyes. An adorable flop of red hair, a kind smile that was sometimes so hard to bring out…

“Mahiru…” he whispered.

Ibuki laughed, “Yeah, she’s waiting for us back at the hotel, man. Ibuki overheard you two at the end there, but try to keep the macking to a minimum until you’re in private, yeah?”

Hajime took a tentative step forward, wincing at the protest of his muscles. The second step was slightly better, and the third slightly better than that. 

“I think… I can walk…” he muttered through gritted teeth.

“Don’t… push yourself, okay, Hajime?” Makoto said, “I’ll come with you in case you fall. We should probably get some food into you as fast as possible, too.”

Hajime nodded, the luckster’s words finally drawing attention to the veritable black hole that was his stomach. It felt like the acid was burning away the lining in a desperate attempt to satiate him. Ibuki offered her shoulder, which he gladly swung his arm over, and the three of them slowly made their way out into the open air of the real Jabberwock Island.

“Whoa…” Hajime whispered, looking out, “It’s identical…”

“We modelled it just about 1-1,” Makoto nodded, “though don’t expect an amusement park or anything like that. There were a couple of things that we just threw in there for the hell of it, you understand.”

Hajime nodded slowly. With the musician’s help, he hobbled down the pathway to the first island, taking in the tropical breeze and allowing a small smile to break across his face. The entire time he had known this island, it had been steeped in despair, fear, and death. It was strange, but not unwelcome, to feel excitement as he walked across it.

They couldn’t have arrived at the hotel fast enough. Hajime’s limbs had stopped protesting so badly, allowing him to move on his own more freely, and he hesitated with his hand on the doorknob.

“What are you waiting for?” Makoto asked.

“N-nothing,” he replied, “I just, um… I’m just preparing myself, is all. Everybody is gonna look different, right? I mean, Nagito was missing a limb in that memory…”

“Ah, yeah,” Ibuki nodded, her tone more solemn, “Nobody out of us survivors got it too bad, except maybe Peko... “

Hajime nodded, swallowing his nervousness, and pushed open the door. His apprehension melted when a red-haired face whipped around from her seat at a table and met her eyes with his own.

“Uh….” he stammered, “H-hey…”

Mahiru just stared back, her face contorted in a tearful smile.

“Hey.”

“Hajime, my friend!” Gundham exclaimed, stepping into the room from the kitchen, “You have awoken!”

“Yeah, hey, guys,” he laughed, “It’s good to see you’re all okay. To be honest, I was only about halfway confident that plan would work…”

“It saved us all,” Peko said, causing Hajime to tear his eyes away from Mahiru’s and meet the swordswoman’s. The girl, or rather, woman, now, was absolutely covered in battle scars. A large chunk of flesh was missing from her upper thigh, her arms pockmarked in slash wounds, and there was even a stylized K branded into her neck.

“Holy shit, Peko,” Hajime breathed, not sure what to say.

“I’m alright, Hajime,” Peko shook her head, “Battle scars are nothing new to me.”

“Right, uh, sorry. Do I… have any of those?”

Mahiru shook her head as she approached, “No… actually, you look fine. I don’t see anything different, other than the hair being longer.”

“Hair?”

Hajime lifted a hand up to feel his hair, and felt his eyes widen as his hand traveled farther and farther back, continuing to meet black locks. He whipped his head around and realized that his hair extended down to his feet in mottled black curls.

“What the hell?” he muttered.

“Kamukura, evidently, didn’t see the merit in cutting his own hair,” Makoto laughed as he joined the former remnants inside, “I’m afraid we don’t have any hairdressers on staff…”

“I’ll cut it,” Mahiru said quickly, her eyes never leaving Hajime’s, “I always cut my own hair, so it’s no trouble…”

“Ah, yeah…” Hajime murmured, “That would be great, Mahiru. Thank you.”

The redhead flushed and turned away, not meeting his gaze, “D-don’t mention it…”

The boy cocked his head at her, confused, but said nothing.

“Anyway, Hajime,” Ibuki said, “Let’s get you fed, alright? Gundham made veggie stew!”

Hajime blinked, recognizing the savoury aroma filling the room, “Oh god, nothing would be better right now.”

Gundham cackled and handed Hajime a bowl of the steaming brown stew. The boy sat down and just about attacked it, feeling the hole in his stomach slowly begin to fill. While the others gathered around with their food as well, Hajime noticed that Mahiru was pointedly avoiding his gaze. Whenever he looked her way, her head would always whip to the side, and her cheeks redden. She never spoke during the group’s conversation, either. Hajime could feel a much different type of hole begin to twist open in his heart as he recalled their last moments in the Neo World Program.

“Did she mean that?” he wondered, “Is she avoiding me because she didn’t?”

Hajime frowned. It wasn’t a thought that he enjoyed, but it was one the photographer’s actions were forcing him to consider. He tried to join in on the conversation with the others, all of them asking what he remembered and if anything was fuzzy where it shouldn’t be, but his head seemed fine. Well, other than the existential dread he was now facing at the prospect of Mahiru Koizumi not---

“Hey, Hajime?” Mahiru asked softly.

“Yeah?” he replied.

“Do you… wanna come with me? To my cottage, I mean? I can cut your hair there…”

Hajime blinked, “Oh, uh… sure. I mean… yeah, that sounds great.”

Mahiru nodded, still not meeting his eyes and standing. Hajiime stood slowly to follow, handing his finished bowl to Peko, who was collecting them to wash.

“I’ll head back up to base camp, then,” Makoto said, “We’re figuring out if the rest of your friends might be revivable through the same methods, but it’s taking some time. If I could actually get some help…”

“I shall lend my assistance,” Gundham nodded, “Fear not.”

“Ibuki will, too!” the musician wrapped her arm around the luckster’s neck affectionately, “Anything to wake those sleepyheads up!”

“I will also join you once I finish here,” Peko said as she departed with the dirty dishes.

“Alright then, sounds good,” Makoto nodded, “Have fun, you two.”

“And keep it to a dull roar, huh?” Ibuki winked at the pair before bouncing out of the restaurant before either had a chance to object.

“Ibu---ugh,” Mahiru groaned, “Let’s just go, Hajime.”

The photographer turned back towards him at the door.

“...yeah, coming.”

As they departed, Hajime couldn’t help but feel a pang of something odd. Whatever was going on between him and Mahiru, they would have to settle it by themselves, and right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Just sit down on the bed,” Mahiru’s voice was little more than a whisper, “I’ll get some scissors…”

“Mahiru?” Hajime asked, “I think we need to talk.”

The photographer hesitated. Hajime could see her shoulders stiffen as her back was turned to him.

“...I know,” she sighed, “Just… give me a minute, alright? Please? I don’t… I don’t know how to do this.”

Hajime hesitated for a moment, before sighing and sitting down on the corner of the bed. Silently, Mahiru kneeled down behind him and began snipping away at the mottled locks that stratched down all around him, brushing against the floor. Hajime felt crushed by the silence that permeated between them, but he knew he had to leave it to Mahiru to make the first move.

Slowly, Hajime began to feel the weight on his head lessen. Mahiru trimmed his hair up to normal length, snipped around his ears so that he could hear, and trimmed his bangs to around two inch length. The hole in Hajime’s heart lessened slightly when he heard the girl giggle under her breath, watching his ahoge spring up once she cut the appropriate strand to length.

“Alright, that should do it,” she eventually sighed, sweeping long strands of hair off of her bed with her hands, “How does that feel?”

Tentatively, Hajime ran a hand through his once-again short hair. 

“As spiky and wild as I remember it,” he chuckled, “Thanks, Mahiru.”

The girl hesitated as he turned to look at her. She buried her hands in her kneeling lap and looked downwards, her bangs hiding her face from him.

“Hajime…” she whispered, “What you said in the program…”

“I remember,” he nodded.

“Did you… mean it?”

Hajime didn’t answer immediately. Movement caught his vision, and he could see that the photographer’s shoulders were quivering as she still didn’t meet his gaze.

“Yeah,” he said, “Yeah, I meant every word.”

Mahiru’s eyes whipped up to meet his again, and he could see that they were red and puffy from barely suppressed tears.

“You… you l-love me?”

Slowly, Hajime leaned forwards, his eyes never leaving hers. One hand brushed a red lock out of her face, and the other wrapped protectively around her waist. 

“You say that as if there’s any way I couldn’t,” he whispered, “Of course I love you, Mahiru Koizumi.”

It was then, in his arms, that Mahiru allowed the tears she had been holding in to fall. She buried her face into Hajime’s chest once again, just as she had in the program, and he felt her arms clutching at the back of his shirt as she sobbed.

“God…” she cried, “Way to l-leave a girl in s-suspense, d-dummy… You c-could have said so s-sooner…”

“You didn’t exactly give me the chance,” Hajime chuckled as he stroked her hair with his hand, allowing himself to revel in the fact that her slightly sweet scent hadn’t changed from the program.

“I know…” she whispered, “I’m… sorry…”

“It’s alright,” Hajime replied as he angled her chin upwards, meeting her gaze lovingly, “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

Mahiru leaned forwards and pressed her lips against his own. He felt her hand comb through the back of the hair she had just finished cutting, and he snaked his own fingers along her back as they shared a long kiss. Hajime felt her lay a delicate hand on his cheek as she swiped her tongue against his lips, prompting him to deepen the exchange. Eventually, the pair broke apart, if only to come up for air.

“See?” he asked softly, “Nothing to worry about. I love you.”

“I love you too, Hajime,” Mahiru smiled back, “As strange as that is to say.”

Hajime blinked, “Oh, am I your, uh…”

The photographer giggled, “Yeah… you’re the first boy I’ve ever… felt this way about. That was… actually my first kiss, I think. Unless something happened in school or despair that I don’t remember…”

Hajime beamed, “You’re my first, too. I don’t really know how to describe this feeling, but it’s… really nice.”

Mahiru blushed somewhat, “M-me too… well, that’s nice to hear, yeah…”

Hajime leaned forwards, meeting her in a second kiss. This one was more brief, but more to the point, as their tongues clashed and enveloped one another in a carnal display. Hajime could feel his arms quivering as he caressed the girl’s back, a strange new emotion coming over him. By the ragged breaths that both he and Mahiru took as they broke apart, he could tell she was feeling it too.

“H-Hajime…” Mahiru’s whisper was gruff, “There’s… uhm… one more thing…”

“What is it?” he asked, only barely keeping a wild, carnal surge at bay within him as he felt the photographer’s hand dance over his chest.

“We’ve… been through so much… I know this is really unconventional, but… I really do love you… and because of that…”

The photographer trailed off, her breathing shaky as she looked longingly into Hajime’s eyes.

“Tell me, Mahiru,” Hajime whispered. In truth, their animal instincts already knew what was about to happen, their pheromones having done all the explaining already. He still wanted to hear her say it, if only to be absolutely sure.

“Well… that was my first kiss, and… there’s still one more thing to give you…”

“Mahiru,” Hajime heard the photographer gasp as he planted a small kiss on the nape of her neck, “Just tell me what to do. Tell me what you want.”

“Hajime…” she whispered, running her hands through his hair and swallowing, “...please…”

A beat of silence ensued as Hajime awaited her order.

“...I want you. Please.”

That was all he needed.

Hajime lunged forward, his tongue once again probing her mouth, which she gladly accommodated. He felt her slender hands pulling off his tie and beginning to attack the buttons of his shirt, which he eventually shrugged off. For Mahiru, her dress was the low-hanging fruit, as she slipped off the straps over her shoulders and wiggled it off of her legs. Hajime broke the kiss to trail small pecks down her chin and neck, making her gasp.

“Let me know at any point if you want to stop,” he reassured her, gruff, carnal need mixing with his voice.

“I will,” she smiled, reaching down. Excitement shot through Hajime as he felt her unbutton and unzip his trousers, which she then tugged off. His own hands went after her button-up and tie, making quick work of them. Mahiru tugged the shirt off of her shoulders, and Hajime couldn’t help but pull back to admire her in her spotted underwear and socks.

“I know they aren’t as… pronounced as maybe some other girls…” Mahiru blushed, reflexively moving to cover her chest with her arms.

“You’re beautiful, Mahiru,” he reassured her with a gruff whisper in her ear, “And I’ll make sure you know that by the time I’m done.”

Slowly, pecking small kisses as he went, Hajime drifted down from her face, to her shoulder, to her chest. He reached back and undid her bra, thanking the stars for the times he had practiced on his mother’s underwear drawer when she hadn’t been home, and cast the spotted cloth aside.

Any self deprecating comment or embarrassed deflection that Mahiru was about to make was silenced when he took her right nipple in his mouth, caressing the tender skin with his lips, tongue, and teeth. He felt Mahiru’s arms wrap around his head, keeping him in place as a moan escaped her lips.

“Oh, god,” she murmured, biting her lower lip. “Fuck…”

“See?” Hajime asked, pulling back up to meet her eyes, “I don’t care about that. Actually, I think smaller ones are much more adorable. You have nothing to worry about.”

Mahiru smiled back, “God, Hajime, where have you been my entire life?”

“Not close enough. I intend to make up for that right now.”

“So do I, actually.”

Hajime felt a shot of adrenaline fire through his system as her fingers slowly looped over the waistband of his boxer-briefs, before gently tugging them downwards. He could hear Mahiru’s ragged gasp of excitement as she slowly exposed his member, running her fingers along it.

“So this is what one looks like… up close…” she whispered, transfixed.

“Should I be glad you don’t have your camera with you?” Hajime joked.

The photographer met his gaze playfully, “Not yet, your expression is too normal. Let’s do something about that…”

With that, she slowly began moving her hand back and forth, causing Hajime to sigh in pleasure. His eyes were closed, which caused him to miss Mahiru repositioning herself as she worked, making the heat that suddenly enveloped him all the more surprising.

“Oh, FUCK!” he exclaimed, eyes shooting open to find Mahiru’s face much lower than it had been, her lips dancing over the tip.

“I read in a magazine that you’re supposed to do this...” she murmured, “Right?”

“I mean, it’s not like I’m gonna stop you…” the boy laughed, his hands trembling in anticipation.

Mahiru nodded, and slowly began taking him into her mouth. For someone with no experience, Hajime had to admit she was methodical, running her tongue and lips over every millimeter of surface area as she slowly eased herself in, only stopping about three-quarters of the way down when her gag reflex hitched.

“Oh god, fuck…” he murmured, reflexively running a hand through her red hair, “That’s good… that’s really good…”

The girl, seemingly egged on by his praise, began bobbing her head back and forth, sending waves of pleasure shooting through him with every small movement she made. He could feel her tongue rolling circles over the tip as she worked, and he began to feel a rising sensation.

“Oh, god, almost…” he grunted, keeping his hips from bucking forwards. Mahiru released him with a loud ‘pop’, jolting him back to his senses as cool air struck his now-saliva-covered member.

“Not yet…” she whispered coyly in his ear, “I haven’t had enough yet…”

“I should return the favour, then…” Hajime whispered, “Get ready…”

Mahiru was about to ask what he meant, but her voice morphed into a loud moan as his hand snaked under her panties, fingers finding and caressing her sensitive clitoris.

“H-Hajime…” her voice shook with pleasure as she pulled her underwear off, casting it aside and leaving nothing between them, “...M-more, p-please…”

Hajime smiled as he drifted downwards, much like she had a few minutes prior. His fingers continued to toy with her until his mouth reached it, at which point he lunged forwards and slipped his tongue over her womanhood, eliciting a loud cry of pleasure from the photographer as her hands clutched the sheets.

“Fuck, yeah…” she murmured, snaking a hand through his hair, “Just like that…”

Hajime obliged with enthusiasm, remembering a trick he had learned off the internet. Slowly, he spelled out the alphabet with his tongue, paying close attention to which letters elicited the largest reaction from her. Once he reached Z, he began repeating the letters that had worked well.

After about thirty seconds of BPRW, over and over again, he could feel the redhead quivering beneath his tongue.

“Oh god, fuck, you’re better at that than I thought you would be…” Mahiru moaned, “I’m ready… please, Hajime… fuck me…”

Well, how could he possibly say no?

After a little repositioning, Hajime planted a kiss to Mahiru’s forehead as he lined himself up with her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, eagerly pulling him ever closer and wrapping her arms around his torso.

“Like a band-aid…” she whispered, “Just do it quickly, and then give me a minute to adjust… okay?”

“Okay. In three, two, one…”

Both man and woman let out loud, carnal emissions of pleasure as Hajime pressed himself into her, allowing the warm folds to envelop him. 

“FUCK!” he exclaimed, having to lock his hips to stop them from thrusting forwards despite Mahiru’s warning. His body had a mind of its own, and despite the fact that he knew he was going to pull out, his animalistic instincts were all aiming towards the singular, simple goal of putting a baby in Mahiru’s belly, and he knew it would be a difficult one to resist.

“Ooh, fuck, that’s deep,” Mahiru gasped, “M-more than anything has ever been… oh god, give me a second to be able to think again…”

Hajime laughed, “It is only now occurring to me that we do not have any condoms on hand, and it’s a little late anyways.”

“R-right…” the photographer flushed, “I… also forgot. Just… pull out, I’ll take care of it.”

“Sure thing. You good to go now?”

“Yeah… yeah, I think so. Be gentle…”

“I will,” Hajime planted a soft kiss to her cheek as he began to move, holding her waist for support. He moved softly, but every fiber of his being was screaming at him to speed up, to feel more, to do more, so he gently ramped up the intensity. Mahiru arched her back and cried out incoherently, clutching his back as he pumped into her as if her life depended on it. If his body had been capable of feeling anything other than ecstasy at that moment, Hajime probably would have felt pain from her nails raking down his back as she gasped in pleasure.

“F-fuck, so t-tight…” he grunted, “Y-you’re pulling me in…”

“W-what did you expect?” she gasped, “Up until a-about thirty seconds ago… We were both virgins, r-remember?”

“Oh yeah…” Hajime couldn’t help but chuckle at the incredulity. He had forgotten, in fact, about almost everything. Their friends in comas, the killing game, the end of the world, it had all melted away. No wonder some people used this as a coping mechanism.

After a few more seconds of bliss, Mahiru buried her face in the crook of Hajime’s shoulder as she exclaimed, “Oh god, Hajime, just a little more… I’m almost… there…”

“M-me too…” he grunted, his hips beginning to speed up on their own, “I’ll hold it until you finish…”

It didn’t take long. Hajime prayed the walls of the cabin were soundproof, or at least thick, as Mahiru let out a cry of pleasure that could also be referred to as a scream. Her legs locked around him as her back arched, and Hajime could feel her spasming beneath him as her body rocked with orgasm.

“Oh god, here it comes!” he exclaimed as he pulled out, the momentary shock of the cooler air being replaced by bliss as Mahiru’s hand whipped down and finished the job, sending shocks of pleasure through him as ropes of creamy film sprayed across her heaving stomach. The pair stayed like that for about half a minute, just blearily staring into each other’s eyes and panting as the cogency of their minds slowly returned. Mahiru was the first to break free, leaning upwards and meeting Hajime’s lips with her own once more. 

“So…” Hajime panted once they released, “That’s… what it feels like, huh…”

“Y-yeah…” Mahiru wiped her brow, “...w-wow…”

“I second that…”

Mahiru grabbed a handful of tissues from the bedside table and cleaned off her stomach, while Hajime collapsed, exhausted, to the bed next to her.

“God, I love you, Mahiru…” he murmured, his eyes threatening to drift shut as fatigue caught up with him.

“I love you too, Hajime,” she whispered back as she cuddled into him, pulling the covers over their nude forms and relishing in the warmth.

“Do we have to go meet up with the others now?”

“No. Ibuki already knows, you remember what she said… she can cover for us…”

“Right… then let’s… stay like this for a while, okay?”

Mahiru smiled as Hajime embraced her, “Let’s stay like this forever, Hajime.”

“Forever it is, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> I need a shower, preferably of holy water. I feel like a sinner.
> 
> This is the first time I've ever written smut, or even referenced a sex scene without fading to black promptly, so if it's shite, that's why.


End file.
